


Warm Water

by NoireRose



Category: Red Dead Redemption, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Abigail is hella mad, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt, Eventual Smut, F/M, Forbidden Love, Hot garbage, Javier is smooth af, Jealousy, John is an idiot, John still doesn't know how to swim, Micah is still a rat, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Submission, Unrequited Love, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17087846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoireRose/pseuds/NoireRose
Summary: John Marston is a man torn between a family he feels obligated to and a woman he can't have.In which this is basically a sorry excuse for a total brain-dump for my John/OC and Javier/OC headcanon.





	1. Drowning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Swimmin'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717617) by [Xenogou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenogou/pseuds/Xenogou). 



> 'With you I'm in warm water swimming down.'
> 
> Title taken from a song by Banks which prompted this whole sorry mess of my first ever fanfic and the opening chapter was heavily inspired by the first John/Reader fic that I ever read called "Swimmin'" by Xenogou.
> 
> Be warned, I can't write for shit but wanted to get the story out of my head and out there into the world in an attempt to motivate myself to write more and hopefully improve. I guess if people like this hot garbage I'll continue posting chapters more often ♡
> 
> PS. I think Abigail is totally rad as her own woman but her relationship with John is hard to stomach at times, giving me the perfect 'in' for some OC drama.

When word got to John that the gang were back in camp after pulling off a bank robbery in Valentine the previous day, he instinctively needed to seek her out.

Every fibre in his being needed to see that she was unharmed and safe, he couldn’t explain this urgent need, even after talking to Arthur and Karen briefly the night before about how it all went down. He needed to see her with his own two eyes like he needed air to breathe.

_Where are you Rosa..._

John knew that she loved to read in the solitude of the early hours, so he had made a point to be up just as early to catch her, away from prying eyes and before the toll of the day took its place.

‘Mornin’ John!’ Pearson greeted him cheerfully, John acknowledging the pudgy man with a grunt as he quickly scanned from tent to tent around the camp.

‘Have ‘ya lost somethin’ ?’ Pearson enquired when no greeting was returned.

_I sure as hell hope not..._

Pearson shrugged off his friend’s disregard and lit a cigarette, watching John as he marched out in the direction of the pier.

That’s when John finally saw her, bathing in the warmth of the sun’s first rays as she sat at the edge of the pier smoking a cigarette and reading a leather-bound book, curvaceous silhouette surrounded with a halo of golden light. John exhaled a long relieved breath at the sight, he gathered that she must have just woken up as it was only in these rare moments that he saw Rosa with her wild raven hair cascading freely down her back and over the soft full curves of her ample bosom, constricted within the white bodice she wore to bed, no shift underneath.

 _Bed._ His mind stuck on the word and in that moment his mind raced to thoughts of how she looked in bed, how she felt. Tasted.

 _You goddamn fool._ He chastised himself as he felt the his manhood tighten against his jeans with lustful daydreaming.

He knew damn well a woman like Rosa would never see him as anything other than just another criminal in this dysfunctional little family of degenerates. Thinking about them all, Javier stood out  amongst them suddenly and John’s jaw clenched at the recollection of Javier serenading Rosa in Spanish while he played the guitar by the campfire, how she’d throw her head back in laughter at Javier’s jokes. Jokes that he could not understand.

The spiral of ugly thoughts were brought to a halt when Rosa’s gaze lifted from her book and to John, piercing green eyes locking with his, making his heart catch in his throat. How long had he been standing there staring at her?

‘Mornin’ John.’ She spoke quietly. ‘You’re up early.’

John coughed at being caught off guard but her soft voice eased him, he had noticed that about her during her first weeks with the gang all those years ago. Whenever he had managed to speak to her alone, her tone was completely different to the gruff blunt manner she used when running jobs with the group, it was quiet and soft, a quality that Charles shared with her.

John didn’t fancy himself the sharpest when it came to people in general but he understood the need for Rosa’s pretence, how it must be real hard to be a woman in this world of blood and gunpowder. To command respect and to be heard above wild ego and hot-headed masculinity. It also didn’t go unnoticed to John that she didn’t keep up the pretence around him, that she felt comfortable in being herself.

John gave her a nod of acknowledgement, sitting beside her on the edge of the pier, searching her face for any trace of a clue as to how she felt in his presence, was he bothering her?  Her stoic expression remained as unreadable to him as the day they’d met, that was one veneer John couldn’t crack, no matter how hard he tried.

‘I heard you came back last night... I..” His raspy voice trailing off as he lost himself searching those bewitching doe-eyes of hers. She tilted her head to the side, waiting to hear the rest of his statement, the movement breaking John’s concentration as his gaze fell to the curve of her exposed neck. He was so used to seeing her in buttoned up collared shirts to disguise her figure, that he had forgotten just how feminine her frame was underneath the flannel and dirt.

“Yeah, we did. There were no casualties. Well... not on our end...” Rosa filled in the silence and John’s attention shifted back to their conversation. “The score was good. More than good.”

“Well ain’t that somethin ’ !” John gave her a gentle smile and Rosa looked away, finally breaking eye contact with him. He felt a pull at his heart at the lack of reciprocation.

They sat in silence, as they often did. John felt as though he never knew the right thing to say to Rosa, never had the right words, the right confidence. Not like Javier did...

He watched her soft full lips taking a deep slow drag of the cigarette between her fingers as she stared out at the horizon before offering it to him.

“What’cha got planned for today then?” She asked nonchalantly, breaking the silence between them, her gaze still fixed in the distance.

“Well... Arthur told us last night to go easy and lay low after the bank job you guys pulled... so I don’t really know what I’m plannin’ to do with myself if I’m bein’ honest.” John replied, taking the cigarette from her fingers, softly brushing her knuckles.

Rosa turned to him suddenly. “How’d you like to accompany me on an outtin’ today?”

The question caught John off guard, he smiled and cocked an eyebrow, brushing back the long strands of hair from his face before taking a quick drag of the cigarette.

“What you got in mind Rosa?” He asked, intrigued. He had never known Rosa to be vague. With her, there was always a place, a time, and a purpose.

He searched her face for answers during her moment of hesitation, she bit down on her lower lip for a moment before locking eyes with him, he felt a heat rise through him and his heart was racing with the possibilities playing out in his mind.

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Uh- I don’t think we gotta do any more jobs for a while... We’re pretty set thanks to you guys’ efforts last night.” John threw out a guess as to what she might have had in mind, she laughed softly and he didn’t know whether to feel stupid or happy for eliciting that reaction.

“I don’t wanna go robbin’ John.” Her emerald eyes sparkled with a tender laugh and his heart seemed to quiver whenever she spoke his name in her soft accent, but especially when she laughed and seemed happy as a direct result of him, in those moments where it felt like he had peeled away a layer to get a glimpse of the real Rosa.

She rose to her feet and tucked the book into back of her jeans, her tan hourglass figure towering above him before she reached down and gently shook his shoulder. “Are you commin’ or not? We should get going now before everyone wakes up and Grimshaw whips us all into chores.”

John immediately flicked the cigarette away and jumped to his feet, she didn’t have to convince him too hard. He’d be happy to shovel cow shit if it meant he could have some of her time to himself, but more to the point; he was deeply intrigued by what she had mind.

He followed her to where the horses were hitched, his eyes falling to her shapely behind. The way those black high-waisted jeans hugged her every curve, swaying rhythmically with each step as she crossed through the camp, watching her move was hypnotic to him. He especially loved watching her dance to Spanish songs that Dutch would play for her on his gramophone sometimes, the way her body moved could make a man commit a thousand sins. He knew it, Dutch knew it too. That old bastard had a soft spot for Rosa, much to Miss O’Shea’s blatant disdain.

"Get ‘yer horse and follow me."  Rosa directed as she stuffed her book into the saddlebag on her majestic ebony Arabian. John remembered Charles once saying how a horse often reflected the characteristics of their owner.

Charles couldn’t have been more right when it came to Rosa and her mare. Rosa had named her Black Belle, after the famous gunslinger, and her most prized cigarette card that she had won from Arthur during a bet. Black Belle was an elegant and speedy beast, fearless with a fiery temperament, could no one get near it but Rosa and god help them if they tried, might just end up with a broken rib or two.

John mounted his own horse, a thick and stubborn Rocky stallion, chuckling to himself still thinking of how right Charles’ analogy had been.

Rose shot him a look over her bare tan shoulder, the strap of her bodice hung lazily around it, waves of unruly black hair falling away at her back. ‘You ready?’

John gave her a short nod, not really knowing if he was truly ready for whatever Rosa had in mind.

 

*******

 

They rode out in silence, a knot forming in John’s stomach as he kept pace beside Rosa, a nervous excitement bubbling up inside as he galloped into this unknown venture. All he knew is that it felt good, he felt free. Free from the camp and his responsibilities. If just for a short while, he would savour this.

“So where we headin’?” John had to ask, the suspense was killing him after riding in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

“You’ll see soon enough John.” Rosa said, turning to him with a mischievous smile spreading across her lips, in turn stoking the fires of John’s nervousness.  “We’re nearly there.”

They diverged from the dirt path and cut through the forest, branches wiping their shoulders every now and then to remind them that they were in untrodden territory.

_Is she planning to rob a camp? O’Driscolls perhaps?_

Making their way deeper into the forest, she slowed her horse’s trot to a complete stop as a small secluded lake came into view. John was stumped by the beauty of the scene but also by the motive.

Rose slid off her horse gracefully and hitched the beast to a nearby tree. The sun’s heat was in full effect, today was going to be a scorcher and John for one was glad they were protected by the cooling shade of the trees all around them.

“We goin’ fishin’ ?” John asked as he unmounted, searching for clues as to why they were out here without asking again outright. “That’s more of a you and Javier thang, ain’t it?”

John regretted it the moment he said that, he didn’t realise he couldn’t say Javier’s name without a sting of envy, he prayed Rosa hadn’t noticed. If she had, she didn’t say a word, instead she gave her head a quick tilt towards the water, motioning him to follow her.

John let out a small sigh of defeat and followed her to the bank of the small lake, the emerald water sparkled in the sun’s rays filtering through the trees above, ripples twinkling like stars in the night sky. The longer he looked out into the lake’s waters, the more he began to notice the darkness beneath the surface, the bottomless unknown that lurked beneath the beauty, ready to swallow him up.

John shook off the dark thoughts and turned to Rosa, attempting to get some answers but fell short, his jaw slackened before any words came as he watched her nimble fingers make short work of unlacing the front of her bodice. John’s pulse quickened and he felt his heart begin to race. Rosa stopped her work as she felt his gaze upon her and stared back at him like she was waiting for something.

“Well c’mon then, don’t just stand there!” She motioned towards him with a nod of her head before turning her back to him and letting her bodice drop to the ground, then tugging at the belt around her waist. “Clothing makes swimmin’ a hell of a lot harder John, even harder when ya don’t know how to ‘ta begin with.”

John swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and let out a tumultuous groan as a war of emotions waged within him. He found himself both fearful and aroused, feeling slightly betrayed that she hadn’t been honest with her intentions, for letting him think... for letting him hope.

 _‘But would you have come had you known where she was taking you?’_ The logical voice inside John’s head emerged.

The soft _thud_ of Rosa’s belt falling to the ground beside her followed by her tight jeans got him out of his head and back to reality, a reality where she was naked, paces in front of him. And before his brain realised what his body was doing, he was unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it to the ground with furious haste.

Rosa’s long black hair covered most of her shapely backside as she walked into the water, yet John could still catch glimpses of her voluptuous figure as the soft breeze flickered her hair around her bare curves.

 _No. No. No! Not now._ John hesitated shedding his jeans as he felt himself harden at the temptation of seeing her naked form before him. He tore his gaze away from her and inhaled sharply to steady himself.

Looking back up in her direction to see if she was looking his way before continuing to undress, but she was still wading into the dark waters with her back to him, so he let his well-worn jeans drop to his feet, placing both of his hands over his manhood as he stepped out of them and began to slowly make his way after her.

The cold water that lapped at his ankles stopped him in his tracks, the panic of the situation  rising.

“John?” Rosa called to him and his head rose from staring at his feet to see her ahead, deep enough so that the water was just covering her chest, he could vaguely make out her form in the water but she seemed so far away, as if being swallowed by depths of the dark waters.

_I can’t do this._

Rose swam forward a few steps before stretching out her arms above the water’s surface towards him, motioning with both hands for him to come to her.

“John...” Her voice was soft as it called out to him and John swore he heard hint of pleading in her tone. “...You see where I am?”

John nodded, he felt a wave of embarrassment washing over his face, he lowered his head trying to hide the feeling from Rosa, his long hair falling over his face and he almost instinctively raised a hand to move it away.

“Ok, see here? I know it looks deep because you can’t see down in the water, but it’s not.” She continued in earnest. “I’m standing. My feet are planted firmly to the ground.”

Rosa gave him a few moments but he was frozen in place by fear and shame.

“You can walk right on over to where I am. You don’t even gotta swim to get here.” She coaxed him softly and waited.

John realised just how much of a scared little boy he must’ve looked to her in that moment, his hands covering his privates and too scared to walk in the damn water to her side even as she encouraged him with the patient of a Saint. John clenched his jaw with frustration at his foolishness, he knew Arthur would not have hesitated had he been in John’s place, Arthur was a real man. The sort of man John always wished he could be.

 _‘Be a goddamn man!’_ Arthur’s words rang out in his head.

That was enough to stir him onwards, one foot after the other until he was waist deep, the water cooling the temper rising within him.

“If I drown in these here waters I’m gonna come back to haunt you ‘til the day you die!” John yelled, masking his nerves with a playful gesture to break the tension within him, bringing his arms up and slapping the surface of the water in her direction.

Rosa’s head dropped back in a fit of laughter as she brought her arms up to shield herself from the barrage of water, the sound of her laughter was a soothing melody that eased over John’s embarrassment and made him feel comfortable again.

“So lemme get this straight - “ She teased softly, arms still raised.  “Dutch _forcefully_ pushes you off a harbour, into deep water mind you, and _I’m_ the one you gonna kill?”

At hearing her mock indignation, a roguish grin spread over his lips as he began to lurch towards her and Rosa let out a scream, she knew she was done for.

John broke into a run, the water pushing against his movements slowed him and sent water shooting around them. He was surprised by the sluggishness of the movements as he pushed against the weight of the water, felt almost like he was trying to run through mud.

The sound of her throaty laughter spurred him on to move faster but just as he reached for her, she gracefully dove beneath the surface of the water and out of sight.

John stood there panting and out of breath until everything around him fell quiet and still, her laughter was gone and all that was left was the sound of the buzzing insects and the pounding of his heart in his chest.

He looked out to where she once stood and to where he now stood, he could barely make out his lower body, it vanished in the darkness of the water below him.

 _What else is down there?...._ He could feel the panic slowly creeping in again.

“Rosa?” He called, his heartbeat quickening in his chest when there was no reply. “Rosa!”  A little louder this time, a little more urgent as he felt the dread setting in to his bones, rendering him unable to move and escape the abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.

“Woman this ain’t funny!” He shouted at surface of the lake, willing the last of his bravado.

In that moment Rosa emerged behind him with a soft gasp for air, sliding her slender arms underneath his and wrapping them around his chest, his heart beating at a million miles an hour from panicked adrenalin and at their newfound closeness.

John couldn’t remember the last time he had felt the touch of woman. Abigail barely looked at him these days. He felt like he was going to fall apart in her arms.

“I’m right here John.” She reassured him softly, sensing his tenseness in her embrace. Her breath hot on the back of his neck as she spoke, making hairs stand on end. He closed his eyes at the sound of her voice and the relief it brought, slowing his breathing and easing into the embrace.

John could feel her pressed against his back, all of her, as she held him. It took every ounce of strength he had not to turn around in that moment and take her in his arms.

“Breathe...” Rosa spoke in a hushed tone. “I’ve got you, John.” He could almost feel the scrape her soft lips on his neck, testing his resolve, sending shivers down his spine. He shut his eyes tighter to steel himself.

 _Dear lord have mercy..._ Her soft breasts against his back and the way her hands rested on his chest as she held him made it impossible, he instinctively spun around to face her but held back from doing anything foolish when her arms pulled away from him and back in to herself.

He stood, a head taller than her, frozen with indecision. Looking down into that doe-eyed expression that made his heart melt every damn time, searching them for a sign to guide him. His gaze trailing the water droplets that fell from her long dark lashes when she lowered her eyes, running down her pretty face where they settled on soft, full pink lips.

_Was this a sign?_

He extended a calloused hand to the side of her face, gently bringing it upwards to face him, he needed to be sure that she wanted it just as much as he did.

John watched with bated breath as her gaze lifted to meet his at his touch, her breath quickened and lips parted at the gesture, sending his desire for her reeling.  He desperately searched her eyes for reassurance but instead found a melancholia that surfaced in them, piercing his heart and straight to his soul. She was hurting from something, but she had never let anyone see it through her mask of indifference.

 _How did i never see this?_ John felt that hurt deeply, his hand falling away from her soft cheek, letting the tension between them grow heavy and thick, simmering in the silence.

“The first step is learning how to let go...”  Rosa’s voice broke the stillness that threatened to suffocate them both, realising that the words that came tumbling out her mouth may have been confusing for him.

“Learning how to float, i mean... That’s the first step.”  

And with that, Rosa slipped behind John again as if she were hiding herself from him. His heart heavy with disappointment in himself for not being able to fix what troubled her and longing for her closeness.

“Do you trust me?” She asked, the question bringing John out of his head.

“Why you gotta ask me somethin’ like that?....” John almost sounded hurt, he turned his head to the side and spoke over his shoulder to her, the scars on his face glistening wet in the faint rays of the sun. “O’ course I trust you Rosa.”

There was silence for a moment and he wished he could see her face. Did she still look sorrowful?

“John, I need you to lay back, into my arms...” She guided him. “I’m right behind you, ‘ya hear?”

John instinctively turned around to see just how far back she was and was met with a disapproving glare.

“I thought you said you trusted me?” Rosa’s mock upset tone almost worked until she chuckled softly at his hurt expression of protest. She splashed water at his face and spun her finger in the air, motioning at him to turn around again.

John shook his arms out, cocked his neck from side to side and took a deep breath, as if he was preparing himself for an ultimate feat of strength and endurance. The pantomime eliciting an easy laugh from Rose, he smiled at himself, proud of the reaction.

“Stop messin’ around Marston.” Rose laughed.  “Just lay back, I promise I ‘gotcha. Cross ma’ heart.”

John took a moment to regain his composure, he hesitated briefly, taking a deep breath before leaning his torso backwards slowly.

“That’s it...” The soft words of encouragement soothed his nerves but he was starting to feel himself tense up as it felt like his weight was dragging him backwards for the longest time and never hitting any support, like he was falling into the abyss. He panicked at the thought and it sent him reeling violently as he tried to stand himself, arms thrashing wildly, he couldn’t find his footing again and he swore something brushed his ankle.

The same dreadful feeling of helplessness and despair that had gripped him when Dutch had pushed him off the harbour came flooding back. Choking on mouthfuls of water in his panic as he tried to fill his lungs with air.

“John!” Rose called and in a flash her arms were around him, however in his wild state of terror, his lashing out was too strong to settle and she found herself being dragged into the writhing panic of his limbs and the pull of the water.

“John stop!” Rose spat out a mouthful of water after being dragged under the weight of his arms momentarily, she wrangled them into her body and brought him in close, arms wrapped tightly around him in an attempt to hold him still.

“Ssshh-shhh shhh....”  Rosa hushed as she attempted to soothe him, bringing one arm up to hold his head against her chest, resting the side of her face against the top of his head as she spoke. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen to ‘ya i swear... I got you.”

“Rosa....I- I’m...” His breath came harsh and ragged.

“You’re ok now. I got’cha.”

John brought his arms around her and held her tight, like she was beacon in a storm, he held on for dear life. Her hushed voice comforting him, guiding him back to the present. John felt the quickened beating of her heart as his head rested against her chest. He closed his eyes, feeling ashamed of acting like such a frightened child who needed to be coddled.

 _Some goddamn man you turned out ‘ta be..._ An image of Arthur came back to mock him.

When Rosa was satisfied that John had come to a stillness she pulled out of his grip, cupping his face in her hands, he prepared himself for a scolding at being so foolish and nearly drowning them both, but what came was confusing.

“I’m sorry, John.” Her apology came out in a shaky near whisper, he couldn't understand what she was sorry for.

“What for? That I’m a fucken’ coward?”

“Stop that.” His harsh words had made her snap, but she softened just as quick, her thumb gently caressing the scars on the side of his face, the touch felt electric. “Don’t... Don’t talk like that.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry...” John spoke quietly, ashamed. “Here you are, wasting your free time on an ol-”

“I am not wastin’ my time.” Rosa cut off his self-loathing speech before he had a chance to get started, still holding his face as she spoke, pulling him in closer as if she wanted him to hear her very clearly. “Helpin’ someone is never a waste of time. I.. I wanted you to learn how ‘ta swim because it’s a life skill anyone should have. Like ridin’ a horse or shootin’ a gun.”

There was a deep sincerity in her voice and the kindness of her words touched John in a way that he wasn’t prepared for.

“Remember when you taught me how to tame a wild horse?” She asked him.

How could he forget? Days after her horse had been shot as a result of an ugly bit of business, John had tracked a herd out near Manzanita Post in the hopes of getting Rosa a new one. He’d taught her how to approach the Thoroughbred with calmness, something Rosa sorely lacked herself at the time. He’d never forget the moment she’d broke the horse in, a smile so bright he’d never seen it since, laughing excitedly as she called his name and he beamed with pride, and later that afternoon when they got back to Blackwater, how she unexpectedly hugged him tight and planted a kiss on cheek. He thought about that day, more than he should perhaps.

“You taught me somethin’ so valuable John... and alls i keep thinkin’ is on how sad it would be to have to tell little Jack that his outlaw daddy drowned...”  Her tone was jovial as she spoke of him drowning but John’s jaw clenched at the word “daddy”. She had felt that reaction and let her hands fall away from his face and onto his chest before continuing. “...that it wasn’t some heroic last stand endin’ with a bullet ‘tween the eyes. That it was the water what took him.”

“Rose... Jack, he -” Rosa pulled her arms away from his chest suddenly.

“And ya can’t be leavin’ Abigail again. Not like that.” She continued, not giving him the opportunity to remind her that it was his strong belief that he wasn’t Jack’s biological father. As if that would change anything.

“I think she would’a rather lost ‘ya to the wolves...”

At hearing Abigail’s name and the way Rose had withdrawn herself from him, he saw it again, a look of pain that surfaced in her eyes. The realisation was like a slap across the face to John.

He didn’t know how to start, so he stood speechless, the hurt now reflecting in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I tried ‘ta force it...” Rosa looked away, she had never been one to let anyone see her vulnerability, the life she’d lead demanded it for self-preservation, she turned back towards the river bank. “...we can try this again whenever ‘yer ready.”

John knew he wasn’t a bright a man when it came to dealing with women but he felt in his heart that in this moment Rosa wasn’t talking about swimming. That realisation, along with her turning to leave, was like a knife to his chest.

“Rosa, stop.”

“C’mon, let’s get ourselves dry. I have to go to Valentine for supplies... I’ll catch ‘ya back at camp later on...” Rosa ignored his request.

“Rosa, please.”

John reached his arm out through the water to find her wrist, clasping it in his hand to make her stop.

“Please...” He pleaded with her softly, not wanting the move to come across in an aggressive manner as he pulled on her arm gently, guiding her to face him again. Her gaze continuing to evade his.

“What is it John?” The hint of frustration in her voice made him think twice about pushing the subject but he couldn’t bare to let her continue to think things that may not be true.

“You know, that boy ain’t mine.” He started, but unsure of how to proceed.

“You don’t know that he ain’t.”  Rosa shot back, she’d heard this story before from the women around camp, even from Arthur once.

“I don’t know that he is.”

“So?” Rosa challenged him, her tone defiant with eyes full of fire. This was the woman he was familiar with in camp. The one who never backed down from confrontation, the one who passionately stood up for others when they could not do the same for themselves even if it put her at great risk, even if it got her horse shot in the past.

“So?” John repeated in confusion, suddenly feeling defensive.

“Whatever the case may be, that sweet child looks at you and sees his daddy. Blood ain’t got nothin’ to do with being a good father.” Rose’s sharp tone wavered at the last words. John knew this was a tough subject for her, he had heard the stories of her Father, a vile excuse for a man.

“But it does have everything to do with this right here....” Rosa closed the distance between them and placed a hand over his heart. “... and I know you’re a good man John.”

At her touch, John conceded without saying a word, simply placing his hand over where her’s rested on his chest.

“I don’t feel like a good man, Rosa.”

Her expression softened and she offered him a tender reassuring smile, her free hand reaching up to tuck long strands of John’s hair away from his face and behind his ear, her fingers lingering there in a moment of hesitation before pulling away, John catching them before she could completely. A soft surprised gasp escaped her lips at his impulsive gesture.

John brought her hand to the side of his face and turned into it, sinking a kiss into the palm of her soft wet hands, his eyes leaving her still parted lips to meet hers.

“I try.” John’s hoarse voice lowered to a whisper. “I-... I wanna be a good father to the kid. I really do.”

“You are John.... You just gotta stop with all this nonsense talk that he ain’t your Son. Could you imagine what hearin’ somethin’ like that from the man he looks up to and calls daddy would do to that poor little angel’s heart?” Rosa paused for a moment. “There’s a lot of people in this here world that can hurt us John... but ain’t nothin’ hurt more than the disallowance from those we hold dear in our hearts.”

John felt the white hot flush of embarrassment at being scolded like a damn fool fill his face, but he knew she was right. He never really knew his own parents but he understood the pain of being denied by the very people in this world who were supposed to love you. John never talked about it, but it haunted him.

Rosa gently slipped her hand out of his grasp and stepped away, ripples of water sparkled in the sun’s rays all around them.

“I should be gettin’ on...” She said softly, he nodded. He had made enough of a fool of himself for one day. Why did it feel with every step forward he took in getting to know her, he always ended up two steps back from where they’d started.

John followed her out to the shallows, silently contemplating how he had messed up a perfectly good opportunity with her. He fought the urge to grab her arm and beg her to not to leave, that he was ready. But instead he left her to the privacy of dressing herself by her horse as he did the same, fighting a heavy feeling in his heart.

John listened to her movements, she had mounted her horse and was ready to go. He turned to see her off, Rosa’s long raven hair slicked back, still wet. Her tan complexion and full lips dotted with beads of water. She was a stunning natural beauty, exotic and fiery. How in the world had he ever gotten the idea that a woman like that would ever be interested in him.

“Rosa...” He walked over to her and gently patted Black Belle as he spoke. “Thank you for today... I really mean that. Was real kind of you.” He paused, willing the nerve to ask the question hanging over him.

“Can we try this again some time?” His throat suddenly felt dry, he swallowed hard, bracing himself for the rebuff.

“Sure. Just don’t you go around tellin’ people how kind i am John! I need ‘em to keep believin’ I’m a sour bitch, ok?” Rosa joked with a soft laugh, she often did so in a way to dismiss the seriousness of a conversation. He had noticed that about her, she never took a compliment or a kind word.

“Do you know remember the way out?”

John nodded, feeling a sense of relief at her previous response. “Yes ma’am, cut through the forest straight ahead until you hit the path and head West where it forks.”

“You got it! Ride hard and you’ll be dry in no time.”  Rosa gripped the reins and steered her mare in the opposite direction.

“Wait!” John called. “Are you sure i can’t be of some help to you in Valentine?”

Her head turned back to him, she hesitated briefly and John was praying that she would consider letting him stay with her a while longer.

“You can’t help me with what I need John.”

John stood there confused, trying to understand and find meaning in her response. Before he even had a chance to ask, Rosa and Black Belle had bolted into the forest.


	2. Intoxicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Javier makes his appearance, also apologies in advance for the butchered Spanish.
> 
> Edit - I did butcher some Spanish, shout out to dollyx3yarie for kindly correcting me, you are an actual angel.

The camp was quiet and peaceful later that night. Most folk had already turned in while John and Charles fletched arrows by the fire and drank whiskey in silence, taking comfort in each other’s presence. Nearby, Uncle and Bill were slumped at the base of a nearby tree, passed out from the liquor.

But John still hadn’t seen Rosa return from Valentine and inexplicably found himself worrying. He knew he had no cause, she could handle herself just as well, if not better, than any of them. Surely getting supplies doesn’t take this long?

_“You can’t help me with what I need John.”_

John hadn’t been able to put her last words to him out of his mind since the ride back to camp. Nor her wistful doe-eyes, wet lips that parted at his touch, her naked body pressed against his. Fuck.

“You’re up.” A hand came down on John’s shoulder and he almost jumped out of his skin, a hot flush of embarrassment gripping him as if everyone had just been privy to the lewd thoughts he’d lost himself in.

“Easy there!” Lenny teased, throwing both hands up and backing away. “Are you sure you’re ok to be on guard duty? Can’t let’cha get caught unawares like that out there!”

Charles looked up from his work and to John awaiting his response, it didn’t go unnoticed to Charles that John seemed a million miles away the entire evening but he wasn’t one to pry.

“I’m fine!” John rasped defensively as he jumped to his feet, bringing his repeater across his shoulders. Charles gave John a silent nod, unconvinced by the response and went back to his work. Lenny slipped into John’s former spot by the campfire and cracked open a beer, watching quietly as John disappeared into the woods.

“What’s up with him?” Lenny asked Charles when he was sure that John was out of earshot. “Him and Abigail at each other’s throats again?”

“I couldn’t tell you what goes on in that man’s mind.”

 

*******

 

The twilight hours passed uneventfully for John, just the way he liked it, the odd scurrying of a rabbit in the underbrush or deer feeding nearby kept him on his toes enough but now his lids grew heavy, the prior day taking it’s toll.

A distant clomping of hooves shot John alert again, aiming down the repeater’s sights from the cover of the tree he had been leaning against, unsure whether to call out just yet. In the pale moonlight he could make out the silhouette on horseback, flowing long locks surrounding a feminine figure. His pulse quickened at the sight, could it be her?

“Who’s there?” John called out, his raspy voice filled with uncertainty. The dark horse slowing as it approached, grunting loudly in protest, it could only be Black Belle. The rider shot up a hand with a sloppy wave.

“Soy yo... it’s me!” Rosa called out as she brought Black Belle to a halt and attempted to unmount, instead sliding off the saddle and hitting the ground flat on her backside with a loud “Ay mierda!”.

John scrambled to her side at the sound, kneeling down beside where Rosa had decided to accept her fate on the ground, deliriously giggling to herself as she lay there with her arms over her head in the dirt, the straps of her bodice hanging loosely around her shoulders, chest heaving to contain her laughter.

Taking in the sight of her, she looked so beautiful in that moment despite being clearly intoxicated, carefree and blissful under the moonlight. John knew all too well that a lesser man wouldn’t have thought twice about taking advantage of such a fine woman who was as helpless as a kitten. Or at least seemed it. He felt sorry for the poor bastard who’d try it with her. He had been witness to too many fools underestimating her and more often than not it ended with a trip to the docs for those sorry bastards.

“Woman are you drunk?!” John grabbed her forearms and pulled her up to a sitting position, laughter so infectious that John couldn’t help but chuckle at her current state as her head swayed lazily from side to side, wild dishevelled hair falling over her face.

“I ain’t drunk, Mister!” She slurred her protested with a bald-faced lie. Now at eye level with him, John could smell the whiskey on her breath and the musky scent of perfumed soap and leather that lingered on her skin. It was intoxicating. John figured she must have spent some time at the bath house before getting loaded at the saloon.

“Sure. So where are the supplies?” John questioned her with a knowing smirk, gently moving the strands of hair away from her eyes to get a better look at her while holding her lower back with his other hand to steady her listless torso. Rosa’s laughter fell and she seemed to freeze in that moment, locking eyes with him, hers wide and seemingly frightened by the realisation of their closeness. Like a deer moments before the kill.

“I- I...”

“What have we got ourselves here, amigos?” Javier voice startled them both, interrupting Rosa’s hushed stammering, a leery look on his face as he stood over them rubbing his chin, contemplating the compromising positions between John and Rosa. John’s arm around a disheveled Rosa, their faces a breath apart, staring intently at one another.

“Javi! Me caí...” Rosa explained hesitantly and Javier let out a hearty laugh at hearing that she had fallen.

“Dios mío, querida!” Javier teased as he reached out his hands out for Rosa. John could only watch, brooding in silence as she gingerly placed her hands in Javier’s and was effortlessly pulled back to her feet and out of John’s arms. The act filled John with a hot surge of ire, but all he could do was curl his hands into a fist and curse the man in his mind.

_Damn that bastard!_

Even though Rosa and Javier almost always conversed in Spanish, the tender and loving tone was as clear as day to John. The familiarity in which Javier conducted himself with Rosa made John burn, the way Javier touched her, looked at her... John knew deep down in his heart that he could never have that level of closeness with her, he’d gotten a taste of it at the lake and ever since, he craved more.

“Lo siento.” Rosa apologised while staring at her feet, avoiding eye contact with either of the men.

“No se preocupe, querida.” Javier accepted the apology, placing an arm around her waist and taking a finger underneath her chin with his free hand, lifting her gaze to assess her current state, the roguish grin on Javier’s face seemed to say he was very pleased with what he saw.

“Lo único que importa es que no estás herida. But...” Javier continued in English, deliberately so John could understand what the joke was insinuating. “I would need to thoroughly examine you. Just to be sure.”

Rosa’s head dropped back with laughter as she swatted Javier’s hand away. “En tus sueños, cabrón!”

"Came to relieve you, good timing no?!” Javier turned to John with a chuckle, arms wrapped tightly around Rosa to prevent her from playfully hitting him. That man was all hands when it came to women. “Can you take the senhoritas with you back to camp?” Javier pointed at Black Belle and John hesitated for a moment, surprised at the question. He was sure Javier would have jumped at the opportunity to steal Rosa away, especially given her current inebriated state. Perhaps his seething displeasure was clouding his judgement and he was being too harsh on the man.

John took the mare’s reins without question, leading her towards Rosa who seemed to clutch to Javier either because she was struggling to maintain herself upright or not wanting to go, John couldn’t tell, all he knew is he didn’t like it.

“Descansa, mi niña hermosa.” Javier cooed into her ear, planting a soft kiss on the side of her cheek, so discreetly that John almost missed it, he wished he had because the image had him burning. He watched as Rosa turned into Javier’s cheek and whispered something in return, their lips inches away. John clenched his jaw so hard he swore his teeth would shatter.

It hit him suddenly, this foreign feeling that churned in the pit of his stomach, making him feel sick. He was jealous.

“Look after her.” Javier instructed as he led Rosa her towards John, she let go of Javier and fumbled a step forward, clutching John’s shoulder. Her touch disarming his rising anger.

“I got you.” John whispered as he wrapped his free arm around her slender waist to brace her.

They walked together slowly towards camp in silence, John supporting Rosa and leading her mare. He looked down when he felt an arm wrap around his torso and the other raise a delicate hand to clasp a handful of his shirt around his chest as she leaned in closer to him to steady herself. His breath hitched in his chest.

John couldn’t think of the right thing to say in that moment, though he was sure Javier would have.

“Uh- Are you hurt?”  He finally asked after much internal debating, trying his best to not to lose himself in the way she held onto him and the closeness his body had craved all day.

“Just my pride i guess...” Her deadpan response earning a laugh from John. “That fall sobered me up real good!” She added, joining in the laughter.

“Invite me next time woman!” John joked and Rosa’s face lifted to meet his gaze, her throaty whiskey-ragged laugh faded, lips parted to say something but it seemed she was having difficulty formulating the words.

“What?” John coaxed, squeezing her waist softly, strands of long hair falling over his face as he leaned in to her for a response. But it never came. Instead, they walked the rest of the way towards camp in silence, a heavy tension hanging over them with the weight of unspoken words

“You don’t need to hitch her.” Rosa stopped as they approached the scout fire and pointed at her horse. “You can leave her right here, she won’t go nowhere.”

“Yeah and what about you?” John asked, trying to make a little joke as he let the leather reins slip from his grip, placing his newly-freed hand over where hers held his shirt. He wasn’t ready to let her go and it seemed by the way she clung to him, she wasn’t either.

“If you left me right here I probably wouldn’t go nowhere either.”

He chuckled at the response and shook his head. “We can’t have that. Come on Rosa.”

John turned towards the center of camp but Rosa didn’t follow, her grip on his torso halting him and he wondered what the cause of her hesitation was. Did she think that he would try to take advantage of her?

“What’s wrong?” He asked, the question loaded with hurt at the thought.

Rosa mumbled something intelligible causing John to dip his head to the side of her face, trying his best to discern what she was attempting to communicate.

“You can just leave me here too.” She repeated herself, grasping the fabric of his shirt tighter for balance as she turned her face into his to be made heard, soft lips grazing his cheek as she spoke and sweet whiskey-laced breath on his skin that sent a fire burning through his core.

“No.” The words fell from his lips, partly protesting his base urges not to kiss her sultry parted lips hovering dangerously close to his and partly protesting her response.  “I- I ain’t leavin’ you here, you can hardly stand! I’m gonna get you to your tent before you break a damn leg.”

“John... You’ve been mighty kind to me,” She spoke after a long pause of contemplation, trying to formulate her words so that he might understand. Her delicate hand letting go of her hold on his shirt and sliding over his chest to rest on his broad shoulder for support. The movement damn nearly killing John’s resolve.  “I don’t want that kindness to be used against you by puttin’ you in a compromisin’ situation... y’know?”

John did not know, he considered himself pretty thick when it came to reading between the lines. The only way John knew how to talk was straight and to the point,  and only as required, which often frustrated Uncle and those seeking banter to no end.

“I don’t understand Rosa, I’m here ‘cos I wanna be. Ain’t nobody forcin’ me.”

A small sigh escaped her lips and John felt shame swell in his face at his lack of comprehension, he felt like an utter idiot. A smarter man would have understood without question.

“If someone were to see us John... You, a family man, takin’ a drunken broad to her tent at this hour... I don’t want your kindness to end up as rotten fodder for camp gossip is all...” Her hushed whisper trailed off and her words hit him like a slap in the face, he felt an anger replace his shame. There was something about the word ‘family’ that he despised, mostly because it felt like a lie to him, one that he seemed to be trapped in.

“Ta’ _hell_ with what people think!” John’s raspy voice was filled with conviction as he pulled her waist closer into him to make a point. A soft gasp escaped her lips as their bodies pressed together. “I said I was gonna take care of you and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” He had never been one to care what anyone thought of him and he wasn’t about to start now.

“John...” Rosa began a weak protest, turning upwards to face him, their newfound closeness catching her by surprise. Those soft, green eyes that pleaded with his, her warm breath on his lips and the heat rising between them was making it almost impossible for John to retain the last remnants of his self-control.

“It’s gettin’ light, it’ll be dawn soon enough.” John needed to keep his mouth busy before he did something foolish. “C’mon woman, let’s get you to bed.”

After a small hesitant nod from Rosa, he loosened his hold around her waist and their bodies came apart, it felt torturous for John but he pushed through his selfish hunger for her intimacy and led her towards her tent at the back of the camp.

Unaware he was being watched.

_“Well ,well, well... John Marston, you sly dog. Didn’t think you had it in ‘ya.”_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♡ any feedback is welcomed and highly appreciated ♡


	3. Submissive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter took a turn. 
> 
> Apologies in advance to those that are easily triggered by Micah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Image from [micahhbell.tumblr.com](https://micahhbell.tumblr.com)

**“You lyin’ home-wreckin’ cunt!”**

The furious yell cracked throughout the camp like rolling thunder, jolting John from a deep sleep and sending the room around him spinning from sitting up too fast in his cot, leaving him panting in a breathless panic and his heart pounding at the startled recognition of that voice.

The sudden fear spurred him to his feet, storming out of his tent towards the direction of the shrill sound of women’s voices attempting to defuse an argument, shouts and pleas echoing throughout the late morning air like a flock of ravens.

John squeezed himself between Uncle and Bill to get a view of the ruckus by the cooking fire, the two burly men looked up at him as though they were looking at ghost, heads shaking in disbelief and mouths agape, lost for words. John turned to the burly man on his left to enquire further but stopped short when Micah caught his eye. The blonde man stood across from him on the other side of the crowd, propped against a tree and chuckling to himself, looking as happy as a fox in a hen-house and mighty pleased by the chaos unfolding. The sight was unsettling.

John frantically scanned the crowd as a feeling of dread churned in his gut, he noted the other men bar Pearson, whose face made a grimace whilst wiping splatters of coffee from the front of his shirt, weren’t present at camp.

Miss Grimshaw stood a few paces ahead of John, blocking his view and threatening that if people were not calm that there would be consequences.

“Abigail if you don’t calm yourself right this minute so god help you, I _will_ do it for you.” Miss Grimshaw’s commanding voice rose above the commotion.  

At hearing Abigail’s name mentioned, John pushed through in front of Uncle and rushed behind the older woman to confirm his waking fears with his own eyes. His heart dropped to his stomach the moment he saw a red-faced Abigail, all fury and spit as she tossed an empty mug to the dirt and squared up to Rosa, whose impassive expression was betrayed by a burning crimson handprint on her right cheek and what looked like coffee splattered over her neck and chest.

“What, you ain’t got nothin’ to say to me?” Abigail’s voice dripped with animosity as her question prodded Rosa.

“I’ve already told you Abigail, what you’re accusing me of, did not happen.”  Rosa’s voice came, every word was calm and steady, which only seemed to enrage Abigail further. “What more do you want from me?”

Indecision had rooted John in his place, his heart and mind were being torn in two through a conflict of emotions. Part of him wanted to run to Abigail to save her from herself, knowing all too well of Rosa’s temperament being prone to bouts of erratic violence. The calmer she seemed to appear on the surface, the harder that rage bubbled up inside. But the other part of him wanted to protect Rosa from being subjected to this public spectacle. The very thing that Rosa had tried to warn and protect him from earlier that night.

His hands clenched into fists at the thought, angry at himself for not heeding her words and placing her in such a precarious position, but also for the pain which Abigail was clearly suffering in her heart.

“You lyin’ whore!” Abigail countered, she wasn’t buying Rosa’s story, not for one second. She had seen the way John looked at Rosa across the campfire in the evenings, how he’d always find new leads for Dutch that always seemed to require her assistance, the way he followed her around like a lost pup. There was a bitter resentment in that recognition, it was how John used to act when he first laid eyes on Abigail.

To this day, Abigail was certain that when John returned from his year long absence, that it had been because of that damned woman. He hadn’t come back for her. Or Jack.

“You be _real_ careful about who you go ‘round callin’ a whore Miss Roberts.” Rosa spoke, like a rattlesnake warning you it was about to strike if you kept prodding. The thinly veiled threat hung in the air along with the subtle reminder that Abigail had, in fact, at one time been a whore. But it was the barb of calling Abigail by her last name that stung the most. Despite all the fussing and fighting, she wasn’t _really_ Mrs. Marston, and everyone knew it.

“Or what? You- You think you’re better than me?” Abigail shot back, mustering her nerves to match Rosa’s defiant posture, trying her best to hide the hurt of insecurities that bubbled under the surface of those words. “I see you. Ridin’ with the men. The way you got Dutch and Javier wrapped ‘round your little finger, what that weren’t enough for you? You gotta have my man too?”

“Maybe if she didn’t treat _her man_ like a stray dog he wouldn’t wander.” Karen stated in a  matter-of-fact half-whisper. She was never the type to shy away from her opinion and cared little for hurt feelings.

“Don’t you start!” Tilly hissed over her shoulder at Karen whilst attempting to soothe Mary-Beth by her side who looked to be on the verge of tears.

“What?” Karen shot Tilly an indignant look, placing her hands on her hips and rolling her eyes. “That man tries to do the right thing by her, bein’ a father to a kid he don’t even know might be his. And for what? She won’t even let the poor bastard sleep beside her.”

“Please stop this! Everyone _please_ stop, that’s enough!” Mary-Beth cried out, the girl hated confrontation, especially when it was between two women whom she called dear friends. She looked up at Miss Grimshaw, her eyes pleading with the older woman to step in and do something.

“I refuse to continue with this in front of your child.” Rosa’s vacant expression fell from Abigail’s murderous glare to little Jack who had made his way to the front of the crowd, shaking with fright at the commotion while looking up around him for someone, most likely John.

“Oh, you refuse? You _refuse_!” Abigail was livid at hearing those words, Jack wasn’t _just_ her child, he was John’s too in her eyes. She snapped as she fell for the bait, lunging wildly at Rosa before two strong feminine arms wrapped themselves around Abigail’s torso from behind to restrain her, leaving Abigail kicking and screaming like a trapped animal.

“Calm down woman!” Sadie’s hoarse voice commanded as she struggled to subdue Abigail’s wild thrashing.

“Get off’a me!”

Sadie stepping in was the last straw for Mary-Beth, the hopeless romantic finally bursting into tears and burying her face into Tilly’s shoulder.

“John, for chrissakes do somethin’ you idiot!” Uncle urged him with a forceful shove from behind.

He had to make his decision now, heart racing in his chest as he stepped around Miss Grimshaw to the front of the crowd, all eyes fell on him as he came to stand between the two women who were suffering at his expense. He felt like he was drowning all over again.

Abigail softened in Sadie’s arms at the sight of him, her expression brimming with hurt. Sadie responded to the stillness in her arms by letting her friend go, satisfied that Abigail had spent her fury by unleashing it entirely on Rosa. It was always easier to be angry at another woman and not as easy to admit that your man might not love you anymore.

“Why, John?” Abigail’s voice softened after noticing little Jack clutching Miss O’shea’s skirts, he looked upon his Mother with tears in his eyes and suddenly there was no fight left in her.

“Why what, woman?” John rasped defensively, a hot prickling sensation rising to his face at the sudden awareness of his situation. He felt his throat dry up as he was faced with the fallout of his actions. Actions he was warned against in a selfless attempt to protect him.

“Look, it ain’t what you think.” John started and Micah howled in the background as if to say _‘oh this oughta be good’_ ’ but John didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, instead  focusing his attention on Abigail.

“Rosa fell off her horse ridin’ in to camp....” John continued, sparing Rosa from suffering any further humiliation by not divulging unnecessary details, like that she had been drunk when she fell. Or the way they had held each other. Or how he lost himself whenever they touched. The guilt began to eat him away at the thought alone as he met Abigail’s doubtful gaze, she stood before him with arms crossed as if to protect herself, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“Javier was comin’ to take over my guardin’ shift when it all happened. He asked me to take her back to camp with me to make sure she was ok. Now you can doubt me all you want, lord knows i ain’t exactly given you much reason to put your faith in me, but Rosa didn’t want no help ‘ta begin with because of this right here. “ John gestured to the crowd around them. “She ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

John turned to look at Rosa as he mentioned her but she was no longer there. She had turned to leave the moment he began appealing to Abigail.

Now that the man of the hour had stepped in there was no reason to linger and subject herself to the further humiliation of this public farce. A quarrel with another woman she could handle, but she would be damned if she suffered through the indignity of having her virtue defended by a man as if she were some sort of fragile maiden who needed rescuing like in one of Jack’s story books. It made Rosa’s blood boil.

A hand gripped Rosa’s wrist to stop her and she turned abruptly to face the culprit with a flash of hostility in her eyes at being pestered.

“There’s something you need to know.” Miss Grimshaw spoke in a low tone, briskly pulling Rosa in closer by the arm. To those who spied on from the crowd it might have looked as though the older woman was giving the younger one a good dressing-down. “Before Abigail confronted you... I saw Micah in her ear. That bastard got her riled up real good.”

Rosa’s expression softened at hearing Grimshaw’s words and the two women exchanged knowing looks. They were well aware of Micah’s motive, witnessing how he’d skulk around camp and corner the women like a wolf stalking a herd of sheep, waiting for a lone straggler to pounce on.

The two women exchanged nods of silent acknowledgement before Rosa continued on her way without another word. The moment perfectly encapsulating the relationship between them. They had always had each other’s backs, sharing a deep bond created by respect for each other’s place within the gang and a mutual understanding of the rules in their world, nothing else needed to be said.

“John Marston! Just what in the hell is goin’ on here?” Arthur called out, demanding an answer as he approached the crowd with Dutch and Hosea by his side, the two older men exchanging puzzled looks. The rest of the men who were out that morning trailing behind them carrying supplies.

Arthur’s eyes darted from a coffee-soaked Mr. Pearson, to a crying Mary-Beth being comforted by Tilly, to a disheveled red-faced Abigail standing in front of John who wasn’t stupid enough to not see how this all might have looked to Arthur. He froze, not knowing where to start.

“A misunderstanding of sorts. I’ll explain later.” Miss Grimshaw stepped in to save the day, masterfully deflecting questions and moving everything right along in that commanding way of hers before John had a chance to open his mouth and say something stupid to set-off Arthur’s temper or draw unnecessary questioning from Dutch. “Mr. Pearson! Let’s get that stew going for the boys, they must be starving! Karen, get a fresh pot of coffee brewin’.”

John turned from his predicament to look for Rosa again but only managed to catch a glimpse of her walking out of sight behind Strauss’ wagon and towards the water, uneasiness setting in as he thought about her sudden silent departure, was she angry at him? Hell, everyone else was and he was used to it, but he couldn’t bear it with her.

His train of thought was cut short as Micah caught his attention once again. He silently observed as the blonde man scurried off in Rosa’s direction. He had noted how much pleasure Micah had taken at the spectacle of the two women at each other’s throats. He knew that Micah had a hard-on for kicking people when they were down but surely he wasn’t planning on provoking Rosa in her current state? The realisation that nothing was beneath that man made John incredibly anxious, two volatile people antagonizing one another was not going to end well.

“Oye amigo, have you seen Rosa?” Javier asked as he walked up behind John, the question prompting Abigail to turn and leave with an infuriated sigh, as if it proved her earlier claims right.

Javier frowned and shot John a look that seemed to ask what the problem was. Where would he even begin. Besides, the man had just returned from a job and that’s the first thing he asks? Although now that he thought about it, he could have used Javier’s help earlier to corroborate last night’s events as well as his suave way with words, it may have subdued the situation and set things straight.

John hesitated for a brief moment, given all that had just unfolded he was sure that he’d be the last person that she’d want to see right now. He questioned if Rosa might be best left alone until that uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach reminded him that Micah had followed after her and it might not be such a bad idea to send Javier after them.

“She’s down by the lake, most like.”

 

*******

 

“A la mierda con esto...” Rosa hissed under her breath as she walked barefoot to the river’s edge. The water had always been her refuge, just being near it was enough to subdue the fire that burned inside, it soothed her spirit and calmed her mind whenever things got too much. And right now, it was all far too much.

The right side of her cheek throbbed, a gift from Abigail’s jealous outburst, sending a fire burning within her. The simmering rage that she had kept a lid on so tightly during the public confrontation was bubbling at the surface, threatening to boil over the longer she dwelled on the morning’s events.

Like the way Abigail had set upon her out of nowhere, referring to John as ‘her man’ like a spoilt child who’d grown bored with her prized toy but would be damned if she’d let anyone else play with it. How Molly beamed with smug satisfaction at Abigail’s strike, feeling vindicated of her certainty that Dutch was being led astray by a woman of dubious morals rather than questioning if perhaps there was a deeper issue with the man himself. The penetrating gaze of the crowd on as they silently cast judgement. It made her burn.

She gritted her teeth at a hazy recollection of earlier that morning, it had come back to haunt her with tinge of guilt that wrapped itself tightly in her chest as she recalled John’s warm embrace as he lowered her into her cot.  How he had lingered just a little too long, his voice a little too strained as he said goodnight.

His lack of self-assurance as much as her own destructive desire for the things she cannot have left her to seek alleviation to those burning frustrations by pleasuring herself to wicked thoughts of John claiming her as his, over and over.

 _‘I deserved it.’_  Rosa thought as she knelt to her knees in the shallows, lazily untucking  her white work shirt from high-waisted jeans which were now carelessly soaked, unbuttoning the top buttons before bringing the bottom half of it down to soak up some water and using it to scrub away the remnants of coffee sticking to her neck, as though she was trying to wash away her sins.

She shifted herself forward on her hands and knees to splash water over her face and neck, the cooling sensation bringing much needed relief to both her throbbing cheek and hot shame that welled up inside.

“You’ve been a bad, _bad_ girl... Though from this angle right here, i can see why lil’ Johnny would risk it all.”

At hearing Micah’s low teasing tone, her thoughts tore away from her self-loathing and she swore she was finally going to snap. Although she knew his play all too well, especially after Miss Grimshaw had tipped her off as to who might have filled Abigail’s head with a bunch of horseshit to get her so riled up. His determination to play at being the big bad bully made the man awfully predictive in the way he antagonised people, always going for the low-hanging fruit.

“Never would’a figured a strong woman like you had a thing for weaklings.”

Rosa clenched her jaw and shut her eyes at the throbbing pain behind them, last night’s careless liquor bender tested her last nerve as she bit down her instinctive urge to choke the last breath from the man so she’d never have to hear him again.  

No. She had to play this one just right.

Rosa craned her neck to look behind her at the blonde who stood with arms crossed, leering at her ass in the position she was in. She forced an amused smile to cross her lips at his quip, water dripping from her neck all the way down to her chest as she rose to her feet and faced him, turning the thin fabric of her stained shirt slightly see-through and causing Micah’s gaze to fixate on her breasts, jaw slackened with surprise at her response. He had clearly been expecting a fight or to be told to fuck off at the very least, this was not the show he had been anticipating.

Micah refused to look away from the sight of her as if _wanting_ her to see that he was looking where he shouldn’t, eyes hungrily taking in the sight as she lazily made her way over to him with a sway of her hips, like a stalking panther, making his gaze shift to hers as a playful smirk spread across her face.

Pacifying a man with a suggestive smile was far easier than with words, predictable creatures that they were. There had been too many nights by the campfire where she had caught him staring at her with a fire in his eyes, or the times he’d skulk around her vicinity as she went about menial chores and she’d pretend not to notice him. But now, in their game of cat and mouse, it was her turn to give chase

“You really think lil’ greasy Marston could handle me?” Rosa asked, still smiling to herself with mild amusement,  she stepped into his personal space as he lit a cigarette before plucking it from his lips and taking it to hers.

A low chuckle rumbled from him at her question, staring intently at her lips on his cigarette, pale blue eyes becoming low and heavy as his mind wandered to where else he could see those plump lips wrapped around.

“You’re right...” She spoke softly, not waiting for an answer, she already knew his opinion of John Marston and it weren’t nothing kind. She flicked the cigarette to the side before slowly closing the distance between them until she was pressed up against his soft belly, causing him to jolt at the unexpected contact and fumble back a step.

The confidence in his chuckle became strained with a nervous undertone. He was not a man who was used to having anyone rise to his challenges, especially not a woman. He was also not used to getting what he wants without a fight, and now that he had her, he didn’t quite know what to do with her.

“Abigail is out of her damn mind if she thinks i want her little _weaklin’_ fool.” She matched every step he took back with a step forward until his back bumped up against a broad tree. His eyes grew wild, confounded by her words as her body pushed against his once more, he had nowhere to go. She let her eyes go low with a feigned desire at the contact and felt his breath hitch in his chest. She had her little mouse.

The last time they had been this close, he had saved her life. But that man had become a stranger to her ever since that night in Colter. It seemed like forever ago. Rosa was convinced that his little chat with Abigail along with the incessant way he derided Javier for his race whenever she was present was all petty retribution for her refusal to feel indebted to him. But she could be just as petty and making him sweat a little longer was just for kicks now.

“I need a strong man... Micah.” Rosa leaned in to the side of his face as she whispered his name, soft lips grazing his ear and sending a shudder of anticipation throughout him, his greasy blonde hair tickling her cheek as his body responded involuntarily.

In the blink of an eye, his hand gripped her long delicate neck, fingers digging in sharply as he held her away to look at him head-on. A predatory smile spread across his lips as he looked into her eyes with a deep hunger, he wanted to prove just how strong he could be.

She knew this was a dangerous game to play with him, sure he had saved her life once but she wasn’t enough of a fool to believe that a violent jilted man wouldn’t take it just as easy. She couldn’t let him smell fear.

With a vacant expression in her eyes, she gently placed her hand over where his grasped her by the neck before squeezing it hard, as if she was daring him to choke her like she knew he wanted to.

Or maybe it was her that truly wanted it, deep down inside, to be punished...

Her eyes fluttered shut, losing herself in the question and realisation that this was what she had been craving from John all along. How she wished that John would lay his hands on her and claim her in the fervent way his eyes told her he wanted to, but never did. She wanted nothing more than to surrender herself to him, she was sick of fighting it.

The line between fantasy and reality became a blur as the warm grip on her neck tightened harder after her encouragement, making her lips part as a soft strangled breath escaped them, the feeling was a euphoric release for her pent-up frustration.

Her body’s reaction to the way he had touched her lit a fire in Micah, who impulsively spun her around as he switched their positions effortlessly, pinning her to the tree by her neck. He needed to be in control and she was more happy to relinquish it in a moment of weakness. Being in control had always felt like a burden to her, it brought her no joy.

Pale blue eyes frantic with a burning desire searched hers as he slid his grip up to her delicate jaw, placing a calloused thumb roughly over her soft wet lips, dragging it down until he parted them. The sight of her glistening mouth open for him made Micah painfully hard against her, an insatiable urge drawing a low growl from deep within a primal part of him.

He slipped the tip of his thumb between glistening pillowy lips, testing just how far she would submit to his will. When no resistance came, he slowly slid his thumb between them into her hot wet mouth, the raw sensation of her lips pressing down around his thumb as she gently sucked it forced an aching groan from him.

“I’m a bad man, Rosa.” He half-whispered between ragged breaths, as if at any moment he would begin confessing his sins to her.

From over Micah’s shoulder she spotted Javier in the distance, his dark facial features scrunching into a deep scowl as his pace broke into a run. Her abrupt lapse of eye contact with Micah broke his lustful daze, causing him to swiftly withdraw his thumb from her mouth her as if he had been a man possessed and was just now realising what he had been doing.

She had to think quick before Micah turned to see what she had been distracted by, she wasn’t about to let Javier take this moment from her or this little charade would have been in vain.

“Don’t you ever talk to Abigail again.” The words tumbled carelessly from her mouth and hit him like a slap in the face, leaving him momentarily bewildered.

“Oooh, I love it when you get jealous.” He gave her a teasing chuckle as he evaded the meaning to her statement, running his hand down from her neck and over the side of her breast until he settled it on her hip.

“Oye! Cabrón! Get your filthy goddamn hands off her now or I will fucking end you!”

In the rising chaos of Micah’s shock at being cut off by Javier’s shouting, Rosa grabbed Micah by his shirt before he had a chance to turn around and jerked her forehead swiftly against his nose with a sickening crack, sending a spray of blood over her already stained shirt as Micah fumbled backwards.

“You fucking bitch!” Micah hissed, bringing his hands over his nose to stop the bleeding, unaware of the distance Javier had closed until a blunt force connected with the side of his face, knocking him to the dirt.

“Pinche pendejo! I warned you! I- ” Javier raged, face contorted with raging fury as he drove his foot into Micah’s ribs, knocking the wind out of the fallen man. “I fucking told you cabrón! Don’t touch her, you piece of shit!” He kicked into Micah, again and again, as if trying desperately to erase the image of Micah choking Rosa that had seared itself into his brain.

There was a dark brutality that lurked beneath Javier’s refined exterior, she had always been keenly aware of it having seen glimpses before but never like this. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched Micah’s bloodied face roll helplessly from side to side with each assault.

“Basta!” She cried out as she reached out for Javier, placing a hand on his shoulder to pull him back from the brink of his frenzy. “Javi, por favor.”

He turned to face her, wild eyed and panting for breath. The sight of her pleading green eyes along with her bloodied and wet shirt disarmed his temper, his scowling expression shifting into one of pure hurt. He pulled her in close, studying her face as he traced the darkening marks of thick fingers imprinted across her neck, turning it into gooseflesh at his feather-light touch.

“He hurt you.” The worry in his voice and the tender way he looked at her nearly broke her heart. She buried her face in the curve of his neck to hide the tears that welled in her eyes, the damage of the morning’s events was becoming too much to bear.

Micah grunted in pain, unable to move from the dirt.

“I need to leave, Javi. I-I can’t...” Before she could even finish her sentence, he embraced her deeply when she expressed her need to go and in that moment she felt as though she would come apart in his strong protective arms.

“Vamos, I know just the place.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If my OC was gonna hate-fuck a member of the gang, it would probably be Micah. Who would yours be?


	4. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of that morning, Javier steals Rosa away from camp.
> 
>  
> 
> _Italic blocked text_ = Flashback scene.

The stifling afternoon heat ushered in the promise of a sultry evening as they rode deep into the Bayou. A cacophony of insects and exotic birds welcomed them and smothered the silence that had grown since their departure from camp.

 _“Let me take care of everything, mi corazón.”_ He’d said to her with that tender look in his dark eyes that made it impossible to protest. She had wanted to run after the morning’s chaotic events. It seemed to be her default response as of late but the way he had looked at her pulled at the sentimental part of her heart that really _needed_ someone. That needed _him_.

“Are you alright Rosa?” He asked over his shoulder, the concern in his voice eliciting a gentle squeeze to his thighs from her own as she sat saddled behind him. He’d always known her to be a quiet soul, though her expressive eyes spoke more than words ever could, still he couldn’t help but notice how withdrawn she’d been since they had left camp, not uttering a single word since mounting Boaz at Javier’s insistence to take his horse.

He didn’t know exactly what had happened that morning but he could make an educated guess based on the scene at his arrival, John Marston had screwed up again which made Abigail furious as a result, but that wasn’t anything new. What had disturbed Javier greatly was seeing Micah lay his hands on Rosa. His jaw clenched at the thought, he’d never liked that bastard, something about that man had always felt off to him. He hadn't forgotten that day in Colter, when he was fast losing hope of seeing her again but Micah had been the one who brought her back to them, how the bastard grinned from ear to ear before whispering to him _"Don't worry amigo... I kept her **real** warm out there."._

“Javi...” Her delicate hands slid from where they had rested on his thighs to his torso, settling on his chest after sensing his tenseness. “ _Cantame una canción?_ ”

A smile danced on his lips at finally hearing her voice, breaking the image of Micah’s hand around Rosa’s neck that had stuck in mind. He took one hand and placed it over hers, grasping the reins single-handedly in that nonchalant way that she loved so much.

“ _Ángel de amor, tu pasión no la comprendo..._ ” He began, pouring his heart into every word of her favourite song, causing her body to respond to the raw emotion in his voice as she pressed herself into his back in encouragement, feeling it in her soul. “ _...si la comprendo, no la puedo expresar._ ”

She closed her eyes as she rested her head against his back, losing herself in his sweet voice like melting honey, taking in his irresistible earthy scent that reminded her of home before all the gunpowder and death.

_From the first day she had heard him sing around the campfire all those years ago in a time before he learnt to speak English, she had instantly been taken with him like a moth to a flame. She found a calming familiarity in him that went beyond a shared language and understanding of each other’s cultures, it was a familiarity that made her feel less homesick, less lonely._

_That feeling was one that Javier reciprocated deeply, fuelling assumptions throughout camp that the two of them were something more than just outlaws in arms and even though neither of them confirmed the rumours, they also never denied them. For most nights since, whenever Javier’s voice was heard around the campfire as he sung a soulful song that pulled at the heartstrings, there you would find Rosa by his side._

_Some nights she would fall asleep on his chest after sharing bittersweet stories of their past; of the love for their countries, their families, and being a stranger in a strange land. Often, Rosa would refuse to speak Spanish whenever it was just the two of them, she reasoned that it was to instil the English lessons that she had offered him in her free time, but whenever he began a passionate story that made the tears well in her eyes, she didn’t have the heart to pull him up on it. Each emotional exchange bonded the pair through the undeniable feeling that they had found someone who understood them like no other._

_“You feel like home...” She had said to him one night as they laid under the stars, her head resting on his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat while he played with her hair. There had been a long silent pause that made her feel foolish for saying such a thing._  
_He placed a finger under her chin and gently tilted her head up to his, a look of confusion laced his handsome face as he searched her eyes for an understanding in her words, making it known to her that he had not replied simply because he had not understood._

_“No entiendo lo que me dices...” He said quietly in an embarrassed admission before attempting to decipher what she had said in English. “You miss your home? Or... you want to go home?”_

_“Yes... and no.” She smiled softly, chewing on her lower lip as the nerves of rewording herself built up inside her chest. She propped herself on her side with her elbow and he followed suit, as if mirroring her body language would help him understand her._

_“That home is gone Javi...” Her voice came strangled as her eyes lowered to the ground, suddenly feeling flustered by the intensity in his dark gaze and overwhelmed by the emotions of recognising that fact out loud._

_Sensing the sadness to her words, he instinctively positioned himself closer to her, reaching out to brush her cascading raven locks from her face and over her shoulder so he could get a better view of her face, lingering there for a moment before letting his fingers softly graze her cheek._

_“Rosa, lo siento.”_

_“Please, don’t be. I’m not.” Her long dark lashes flicked upwards with a radiant smile that lit up her eyes at the sincerity of his words and the warmth of his touch._

_“This here...” She gestured her hand around them vaguely to mask the nervousness of words to come. “...and these people, they are my home now... you-” she felt her words falter as her gaze met his in that moment, there was a fire in his eyes that she had never seen before. It made her feel like maybe he had understood what she said after all._

_He waited in anticipation for her to finish her sentence like it would be his last breath._

_“You are my home now.”_

_At hearing those words, his lips pressed against hers with a fervent need, desperate to convey the elation that burned in his heart when his own words failed him. There was an urgency in the way he kissed her, he’d dreamed of those soft full lips since first laying eyes on her._

_His need for her made him relentless as she fell back onto the grass and his body followed. It made him feel like he was that starving feeble man all over again, savouring her sweet taste as his tongue languidly entwined with hers. His hand roaming from the side of her face and into her thick silky hair before softly tugging a fistful of it, the motion causing her to arch her delicate neck back and her lips to pull away from his with a low moan, leaving him gasping for air and hungry for more._

“We’re here.”

Rosa slowly fluttered her eyes open at hearing his voice and suddenly the world came into focus again, followed by the bustling sounds of industrialisation and civilisation. Hooves clomping on cobblestone were contrasted by the whirring sounds of trolley cars gliding down the street.

“Where are we?” Rosa asked as she dismounted Boaz, fascinated by the people all around them going about their daily lives. Two well dressed men who had been engrossed in conversation by the hitching post paused momentarily to tip their hats to her with a foreign greeting she had not understood. Before she even had a chance to reply, Javier suddenly wrapped his arm around her in a protective manner to lead her away.

“We’re in St. Denis. You didn’t see the big sign when we rode in?”

Rosa shook her head with inquisitive eyes seemed to ask what they were doing here in St. Denis but soon became acutely aware of the crowded street and the repulsed stares from distinguished society ladies as they strolled by. It made her feel dirty, ashamed even.

Instinctively, she grasped at the lace shawl that Javier had placed around her before they had set off and brought it tighter across her torso in an attempt to hide the evidence of the morning’s events. The damp filthy blouse she wore was smattered with Micah’s blood and coffee stains. Her hands scrunched the delicate fabric of her shawl as they formed into fists, white and trembling from a swelling anger borne of embarrassment at being looked down upon like she was some vile piece of shit on the bottom of civilised society’s shoe. Rosa stepped away from Javier’s arm, lest she drag his refined put-together self down to her level.

Javier had observed the sudden change in her demeanour and understood all too well. He reached out for her, grabbing her back to his side by her waist, giving it a gentle squeeze as he dipped his head to her ear.

“Nothing a little hot water and some soap can’t fix, ‘ _ey chica_? As for them...” He jerked his head back towards the two pompous women who had walked on by with sour looks of disdain. “There is nothing that can fix _that_.”

Rosa’s stern expression melted away with soft laugh which Javier took great delight in, smirking to himself. But it wasn’t enough, he needed more. He always needed more from her.

“I’ve seen you caked in mud, covered in the blood of our enemies, that time Jack vomited all over you. Oh - that time you fell in cow shit!” Javier chuckled at her embarrassed expression as he counted the memories with each finger on his free hand. “... and I still have not seen a woman who could match your beauty.”

Rosa’s soft laughter did not desist even as she rolled her eyes and waved him away to dismiss his over the top confession. She had never been one to take a compliment well.

“ _Qué?_ It’s true!” Javier exclaimed as if deeply offended that she was questioning the integrity of his words. And maybe he had been. It was always difficult to tell behind his theatrics. Rosa both loved and loathed it. It drove her mad, in the best way possible.

She swatted at his chest dismissively when suddenly Javier clasped her hand with the reflexes of a cat and pulled her into him. The playfulness in his eyes had been replaced with a serious intent as their eyes met.

“Even at your worst, you have no equal. _Me encantas._ ”

Rosa’s lips parted to say something, protest perhaps, but the words caught in her throat at the recognition of that fire in his eyes.

The reaction to his words was enough to satisfy him, for now.

“ _Vamos_. Let’s get you cleaned up for tonight.” Javier smiled to himself as her eyes widened at the statement, quickly whisking her away in the direction of the saloon before she could interrogate him.

“ _Esta noche_? ”

Javier remained silent as they entered the doors to the fine establishment, still smiling to himself as he felt her gaze searing into him for answers as he approached the bar.

“What can I do you folks for?” The barman turned his attention to them, a dark handsome man with a kind face that exuded warmth and hospitality, the type that you’d confess your heart and soul to over a few drinks in the late hours without hesitation. He reminded Rosa of an older version of Lenny and it instantly made her feel at ease, this had not been the kind of service she had become accustomed to.

Javier leaned over to rest on the bar, sliding a few coins across it as he asked for a bath to be drawn. The barman obliged with a smile before asking a young man at the far end of the bar who had been engrossed in the ‘Saint Denis Times’ to fetch ‘Ma and ask her to get a bath ready.

“Sure thing ‘Pa.” The young man obediently bounded up the long winding staircase to relay the message, leaving Rosa to linger in a sweet sadness of yearning for something that had always been missing from her life as she silently observed the interaction between them.

She had become so lost in her bittersweet reverie that she had drowned out the conversation between the barman and Javier until a portly lady at appeared at the top of the stairs calling out to them with a jubilant sing-song tone.

“Bath is ready! Come on up!”

Javier slid his elbow across the bar to give Rosa a gentle nudge. “Go on _chica_.”

Rosa took a step towards the stairs but hesitated momentarily “ _Y tú_?”

A small chuckle escaped his lips at the question before raising an eyebrow at her concerned expression.

“ _Si tu quieres el Escuella deluxe_....” He winked at her and made a gesture of rubbing imaginary money between his fingers, as if to say - “It will cost you”.

Rosa scoffed at his response before unleashing a torrent of curses in Spanish aimed squarely at him.

“ _Ai mi amor_! Don’t be like that!” Javier placed both his hands over his heart with a wounded expression. Slipping their conversation back to English was one of his favourite games to play with her around other people, leaving their conversation open to interpretation gave him a kick.

“Me and my new amigo here...” Javier jerked his head at the barkeep with a sheepish grin as he picked up the shot of whiskey in front of him “...are going to have a little drink and commiserate.”

“Yes Sir, lord knows women can break your back... among other things.” The barkeep took a stab in the dark at Javier’s and Rosa’s little exchange as he sympathetically nodded his head with a hearty chuckle, picking up his own shot to clink Javier’s raised glass.

“Oh please, Joe!” The lady at the top of the stairs, who was no doubt Joe’s wife and never missed a beat, interjected as she placed one hand on her round hip and the other thumbing her chest in a defiant manner. “If it weren’t for this woman right here god knows which gutter you’d be crawling in!”

Javier gave the barkeep a knowing glance as the man silently admitted defeat, sliding his empty shot glass towards Joe before gesturing with his index finger between the two of them for another round.

“Come Miss, let us leave these ungrateful men to their foolery.” Joe’s wife called out to Rosa with a brisk wave and the sort of warm smile that a mother reserved for her child. Rosa did not hesitate in doing as she was told but just as she reached the top of the stairs, Javier’s voice broke out, making her stop in her tracks.

“To foolish men!” He raised his glass in a toast towards Joe with a playful wink. He paused momentarily, turning to meet Rosa’s gaze with a sober look that bore no levity in those dark eyes. “And to the women who saved us.”

 

* * *

 

A bath was supposed to be relaxing but it had not been enough to keep the creeping malaise at bay. Rosa found herself alone for the first time since that morning without Javier’s warming presence, left to dwell on the unpleasant events as she stared at the filthy blouse hanging over a chair in the corner of the dark room.

It seemed to mock her.

The pure white fabric had been deeply stained with the blood of a man who had once saved her life and the dark coffee stains from a woman scorned. A woman who she had considered a friend. A woman whose man she had thoughts about, many times.

I dirty everything that I touch...

The introspect triggered a recollection of shameful events that she had tried to put out of her mind. One by one they assaulted her vision. Starting with her getting recklessly tanked at the saloon in Valentine after leaving John at the lake because she needed to dull the burning desire that flowed through her very core at the way his bare form felt against hers, his soft lips on her palm and the torturous look in his eyes.

The arousing memory flashed to John’s strong arms around her as he attempted to lay her down safely that night. Fumbling in the dark in an unfamiliar tent had caused him to stumble and in her drunken stupor she had pulled him down with her, falling back onto her cot. The pressure of his warm trembling body against hers mixed with the liquor had reignited that fire all over again. She felt a sudden need for his mouth that hovered dangerously close to smother hers. She needed the thick cock that swelled in his jeans against her belly to fill her throbbing core. In that moment she needed him so bad that it hurt.

Yet each time his resolve stayed true without reciprocation while she was punished by being put on display for all to know that she was no better than a common whore. The lustful recall swiftly turned violent, the two vices that seemed to eclipse her very being.

Scalding coffee searing her skin. A sharp slap across her cheek wrought by vengeful fury. A vise-like grip pinning her roughly against a tree by her neck. The sickening sound of shattering bone and the warm spurting blood that followed.

The overwhelming impact of the recollection felt suffocating, like she had been in shock and it was only now that the pain of how broken she truly was under the heaviness of her sins were coming to the surface. Tears began to prick at her eyes, burning fervently in her gaze as they threatened to overflow.

Rosa inhaled deeply and snapped her eyes shut, sliding her torso down the back of the tub and beneath the bubbled surface of the lukewarm water where she tried to scream, to cry, but the relief she sought eluded her like a cruel joke. Instead, she was left with the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she held her breath, drowning out everything.

When her chest felt as though it was going to burst, she extended her legs and pushed away from the end of the tub to slid herself back to the surface, her gasp for air turned into a gasp of shock as the door opened slightly in that moment and Javier stepped into the dark room with a look of concern furrowed on his handsome face.

“I was knocking.” He said as he closed the door behind him before setting down a pile of neatly folded clothes on the chair beside him.

“You didn’t answer...” Rosa remained silent, unsure of what to tell him. “. _..estaba preocupado_.”

The heaviness of the silence enveloped the room as soft candlelight flickered around a gaze that seemed to stare right through him, making it difficult for Javier to discern whether his presence was welcomed or whether she believed his interruption served his own self-gratification. The way she looked at him made Javier feel unsure of himself, that was not something that many people could do.

He cleared his throat and gestured at the clothes on the chair. “I came to bring you those.”

Rosa opened her mouth to speak but an overwhelming wave of guilt choked the gratitude she wanted to express in her throat. Through everything the two of them had been together, Javier had been the one constant good thing in her life. Loyal to a fault. All he wanted was to be close, to keep her safe, even if most of the time it was from herself. He’d never asked for a thing in return.

“I got some of your things before we left, figured you’d like a clean change of clothes...”

Her eyes began to sting as she watched him turn away and reach for the door handle.

“Stay.”

She found her voice and the words fell from her lips with urgency. Javier’s shoulders sank with a deep exhale as his hand rested on the handle of the door, unsure of what she was really asking of him.

“Javi...” She called softly. “ _...por favor_ , stay.”

Javier slowly let his hand slip off the handle, he walked over to the tub where he crouched down to her level, his arms resting across the edge. Dark intense eyes searched her watery gaze that betrayed her small forced smile. He could feel his heart breaking seeing her like this, there was a sorrow in her eyes that he didn’t know how to fix, a deep sadness that no amount of honeyed words or grand gestures could put to rights. It pained him to see her suffering.

“ _Estás bien_? ” He reached a hand to the side of her face, cupping it gently as he traced his thumb over water droplets on her cheek. His tender touch and the way he looked at her made her feel like all her transgressions had been absolved, she closed her eyes and leaned into the touch as she placed her own wet hand over his.

“I am now.”

She opened her eyes again and moved her hand from his to reach out and tug at the red silk scarf around his neck. He watched her intently as anticipation swelled inside his chest, unsure of what was happening as nimble fingers loosened the knot and pulled the scarf away, letting it fall to the floor.

“Get in.”

Javier hesitated for a moment before doing as he was told. He stood, towering above her, leisurely unbuttoning his blue suede vest followed by his shirt. Muscles rippled across his lean torso as he peeled the fitted shirt away from his chest. She pried her gaze away as he began to unbutton his dark jeans and shifted forward in the tub to make space for him.

Javier lowered himself in behind her, keeping his legs apart to make room for her. He leaned forward to wrap his arms around her slender waist and slid her back to close the space between them him with one swift movement.

Rosa’s tenseness melted in his embrace and he fought the instinct to let his hands follow muscle-memory to roam the curves of her body against his. Holding her always felt right.  
Fighting his base urges, he let go of her waist and pushed her forward gently so he could rub her shoulders instead but moving her long wet hair to the side revealed a sight that made Javier see red.

Dark purple splotches marked her olive skin there. Angry and fat-fingered imprints taunted him for not being there to protect her. He clenched his jaw, fuming silently at the futility of it all. He knew damn well she didn’t want any protecting.

“ _Ese cabrón_!” The seething anger spewed forth, he hadn’t wanted to say anything to her, not until she was ready to talk about whatever had happened. But staring at the mark Micah had left on Rosa’s body, he couldn’t contain it any longer.

Rosa’s delicate hand slipped up to her neck, as if covering the bruising would calm him.

“It’s noth-”

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” He swore in that darkly serious tone that Rosa knew he meant what he said.

“Javier, please... it’s nothing.”

“He hurt you.”

Rosa turned herself over to face him, sliding her legs over his, bringing them together with the force of her strong thighs so that she was now straddling him.

“Javi...” The pleading tone in her voice pacified the anger stewing inside of him but it was her soft breasts against his chest that completely disarmed him. He looked up at her and that mesmerizing doe-eyed look made him forget about all about Micah and replaced his ire with an aching need. The feeling of her sliding against him had left Javier painfully hard.

“ _Gracias..._ ” She said softly after a moment of silently gazing into each other’s eyes. The words catching him by surprise.

“What for?”

“For this...” She gently moved long dark strands of his hair away from his face as she spoke, he felt his dark mood dissipating in her tender care. “...for everything.”

Her soft wet lips pressed against his, making him melt and rendering him unable to question her as his eyes fluttered to a close, losing himself in the kiss.

“Rosa...” He whispered breathlessly as he wrestled with a sudden need in him to grind her against his aching erection at seeing her parted wet mouth react to his need for her.

His hunger for her had been unrelenting since the last time he had tasted her. It never sated, it grew with each and every day that he saw her face. He needed her like the first time. To make her writhe in his grip and call his name like a prayer. To beg him to make her his, over and over. To tell him pretty little lies.

“You do so much for me...” She whispered against his lips. “....why?”

“You know why.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took a long break from writing because life got too crazy but I'm back on my bullshit.
> 
> I had half of this chapter completed around the same time I had posted the last one but I just never really got around to finishing it. I guess it's still 'unfinished' in a way because there is more to this little escapade but I thought I'd break it up so there was at least some sort of updated/continuation for anyone still interested to see where this story is going.
> 
> I also [wrote a sort of prequel fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780282) which can be read as a standalone, the first part is basically Micah Bell x Rosa which gives some insight into things that are mentioned in the last chapter regarding an event between her and Micah. I may continue it depending on feedback.
> 
> Anyhoo, thank you for reading this garbage!


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